


Switch

by switchmeon



Category: Original Work
Genre: Aftercare, Choking, Clothed Sex, F/M, Gender Dysphoria, Genderfuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-10 01:04:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12900666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/switchmeon/pseuds/switchmeon
Summary: "The dysphoria was there in the back of Jo’s head in a position like this. It wasn’t bothersome but she had imagined before having a partner like this, being able to take and penetrate and thrust. She wondered if the same thing set off Charlie's dysphoria. It wasn't so much a mirror as a complement - a swap."





	Switch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HandsTied](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HandsTied/gifts).



They fought almost every time they met. He had experience but was light; she was learning quickly from their sparring. She beat him this time: pinned him down against the carpet, one hand on each of his wrists, her shin over the backs of his thighs keeping him face-down and helpless.

To some degree, Jo just enjoyed the physical contact, being able to interact with someone with hands and force and body weight. She couldn’t deny, though, that she was attracted to Charlie. He was confident, lean but with soft features and a sophistication about him.

He struggled fruitlessly for a moment then resigned to his loss. She flopped down onto the floor beside him, staring upwards. The one lamp that was on in the room cast patterns across the ceiling. He pulled himself up slowly, relaxed, and leant against the wall by her head. His hand drifted down and tangled in her hair.

He was experimental about it, trying different touches: feather-light fingertips across Jo’s skin, firm fingers along her scalp, a tickle down her neck, a scratch of blunt nails up her back to grasp her head with the same calm forcefulness. She didn’t try to hide her reactions; he was looking for them, seeing what he could do to her. Jo hoped he would pick up by her response what she liked more, hoped he would repeat the harder touches, the rough movements that left her quietly gasping. Charlie never lingered too long on those but he noticed what they did; he repeated them casually every couple of minutes, not often enough for her liking.

They shifted later, his head in her lap. Jo’s thighs were soft and her wandering hand thoughtful. Curious, she tried the same patterns Charlie had used on her, carefully cataloguing his responses. He wasn’t as obvious as she was but she could piece together what she was doing to him. Fingers gently through his hair calmed him; fingertips traced down the back of his neck sent a slight shiver through his body; he tensed as she drew her hand up the side of his neck, down his jaw; he was still but alert – no, waiting – as she dragged her hand gently over his throat.

When she paused, resting her palm just below his jaw, he tilted his head back slightly; she took a guess as to what that meant. She pressed down slightly, not enough to affect his ability to breathe, but his breaths became shallower anyway. Release, tighten, testing him, watching the reactions. A more conclusive test next then - a sudden, hard grasp at his neck, pushing his jaw up and pressing just hard enough to make it difficult for him to get enough air. His mouth fell open, a silent gasp at the act and the sensation it sent through him. She released him and he took a deep, shuddering breath but didn’t move, still waiting calmly for more.

"Tea?"

He opened his eyes, slightly confused at first before remembering he had offered when Jo arrived this evening. There was a hint of disappointment on his face as he stood up but it passed quickly as he set about in the kitchen.

They sat on the living room floor with the tea. The carpet was particularly comfortable and it made up for the lack of furniture. Charlie kneeled, knees together almost primly. Jo leant against the wall knees up and legs open casually.

"I enjoy being able to beat you," she said. "You don't seem to mind it either. Sometimes I wonder if you're letting me win."

He shook his head and smiled. "Where would be the fun in that?"

Jo grinned back at him. It wouldn't be as fun for her either. She believed him; Charlie really wasn't the type to be dishonest in his actions. She suspected that he enjoyed being overcome sometimes and it wouldn't be as satisfying if it weren't real. The knowledge that she could genuinely fight, that she was as strong as he was, was very pleasant for her.

"I like feeling strong. It's a nice change," she told, looking into her tea as it cooled enough to sip. "'Small and pretty' looks nice in a sundress for sure but that's not exactly what I'm aiming for. It's just what I got."

"If it helps, I don't think of you as pretty," Charlie joked.

"Oh yeah, cheers."

"Although you probably would look nice in a sundress."

"Thanks, you too." Jo rolled her eyes.

"Of course I would!" he replied with a smug shimmy, "I'm small and pretty."

He wasn't wrong. Charlie was a little taller than she was; not delicate as such but his limbs were slender and the way he moved could easily be described as elegant. The way his dark hair, something of a long pixie cut perhaps, fell about his face did make it look pretty, perhaps. It wasn't a bad thing.

He sipped his tea. She sipped hers. He hummed at her  queryingly . She nodded in reply; it was good tea.

"You're probably more feminine than I am," she suggested.

"It's not like you're trying to be ladylike," he retorted, waving at her casually spread legs.

"You're not trying to be masculine."

"I don't really want to be."

Jo looked down at her knees and then into her drink. "I kinda do," she said quietly.

"You do it well," he said. "I like it."

They settled into a comfortable silence. Jo observed the contrast between them: her obvious attempts to look more of a man; his disinterest in such a thing; the way that, in good company, neither felt the need to perform their sex's roles. He made her feel tougher and more masculine, and it was even better to think that he was not just okay with her acting as if she wore the pants, he appreciated it. It helped her.

"What do you know about gender dysphoria?" she interjected into the quiet room.

"I'm acquainted with it," he replied. That gave away very little but at least he might understand her if she tried to talk about it. Some people, she had had to explain it from scratch, or just decide against it and save herself the trouble.

"I'm perhaps a little more than acquainted with it."

He looked at her over his half-empty mug, a resigned, knowing expression on his face. "It kinda sucks, doesn't it?"

She looked at him, feeling slight disbelief but much more understood than she had a moment ago. She nodded. "Sometimes, yeah. I don't get it all the time though."

"Maybe I've got it when you don't. Sharing is caring, you know?" he added with a wry smile.

The corners of Jo's mouth rose slightly. "I get it around you a fair bit, but not in a bad way."

"There goes my theory then because we're probably feeling it at the same time then. And yeah," he agreed, "it's not so bad around you either."

That was one of the things Jo liked best about hanging out with Charlie: the feeling of comfort she got with him. She was very glad to know he felt the same way.

She took his empty cup from his hands when he was finished and put them both on the kitchen counter before returning to kneel in front of him, shoulders relaxed and fingers flexing. "Would you like another attempt?" she challenged.

He put up a fight as usual but she really wondered if perhaps he was letting her win this time. She preferred to think that she was growing accustomed to his technique; either way, she had the upper hand now. In fact, she had his hands, wrists caught firmly in her grip, held up and away from his body. Not knowing where else to take it from here but wanting to conquer him more thoroughly, she pushed him back, wrists pressed securely into the carpet and seated herself on top of him. With her weight over him, Charlie couldn’t escape, although he did struggle for a moment before concluding he had no means of throwing her off. He wasn’t the type to give in but that wasn’t to say he was uncomfortable being pinned down by her. He gazed up at her, startled but untroubled.

Not content to straddle him and pin his hips, Jo pushed a knee between his legs and settled herself between them. Wrestling his two hands under one of hers for a moment, she hooked her arm under his thigh, pulling his knee up towards his chest. He was more exposed like this; it wasn't just exposing but a distinctly feminine position. He didn't argue. He didn't appear to quite have the breath to do so, let alone the motivation. She grinned.

The dysphoria was there in the back of Jo’s head in a position like this. It wasn’t bothersome but she had imagined before having a partner like this, being able to take and penetrate and  thrust . She wondered if the same thing set off Charlie's dysphoria. It wasn't so much a mirror as a complement - a swap. He was still very much there and still calm so if it did affect him, he wasn’t disturbed either. She thrust her hips once, playfully, jolting his body slightly. It was almost a smile, the expression she got in return.

Jo took her hand off his wrists but no move was made to shift them from above his head on the floor. She traced her fingertips through his hair, down his jaw, lightly down his neck; the patterns she had learnt earlier. His head tilted back, exposing more of his neck for her to touch. She pressed her palm against his throat, slowly tighter until he could barely breathe, his fingers clawing at the carpet and face tense. Her hips ground against him slowly and his back arched, tilting his hips up until Jo let him go suddenly. He drew in a ragged breath as she smoothed her hand down the side of his neck and onto his shoulder. She gripped him, pulled him in as she thrust again and he gasped. She growled and he whimpered back.

There was more aggression now than Jo usually felt while they were play-fighting. She resisted the instinct to bite him and instead clawed at his shoulder, scratching him and digging her fingers into him as she thrust again, harder this time. Charlie's eyes squeezed shut as his mouth fell open. She looked down his body, curious as to how much exactly this was affecting him. His jeans were pulled tight over a definite bulge. She grinned.

She leaned down to press his lips to his shoulder where she had pulled aside the collar of his shirt, letting her teeth scrape suggestively along his skin. "May I?" she murmured, licking him gently.

"Yes," he gasped, "please." And she bit him, teeth sinking in hard enough to hurt but not enough to mark. His back arched and he pressed his body against hers. She held still for a few moments after letting his neck go, until he whined quietly, shifting against her shamelessly.

Gripping him firmly, Jo rolled, pulling him on top of her. His knees landed on either side of her hips, straddling her. She ran her hands up his thighs, grabbing his hips and rolling her hips up against him. His whole body moved as she rocked upwards. His eyes were closed; she wondered where he was in his own head. Was he dripping wet around her cock? Was she deep inside him? Jo began to picture it too. He would be so tight and warm around her as she thrust into him, she thought as she bucked up again, almost involuntarily. He'd be loving it too; that would be the very best bit.

She began to set a rhythm, rocking him back and forth. Her hands ran over his body, under his shirt. His skin was warm and smooth aside from some soft hair on his stomach that dipped below the waistband of his jeans. His chest was flat but she caressed him anyway, enjoying his beautifully soft skin. It was impossible not to see how feminine he was in this position. Even as she relaxed her thrusts, Charlie continued the rhythm, grinding against her still, running on instincts mismatched to his body.

Jo ran her fingers around his right nipple, gently at first and then pinching suddenly for a moment. His movements stuttered for a moment as he whimpered. She clawed down his chest with her other hand, scratching at him, and he moaned. Jo growled back, grabbing his hips suddenly and thrusting upwards before sitting up and wrapping an arm around his back to run her nails down his back. That hand grabbed his arse and ground him against her again as her other hand moved up to his throat. She gripped it harder now, enough to stop him breathing; she watched his face carefully but saw no sign of distress. Charlie's expression would more accurately be described as ecstasy. He sucked in a deep breath when she let him go and then groaned, deep and debauched.

Pushing him back, she pushed his knees up again and set herself between his legs again. Charlie gazed up at her, his mouth open and panting; he was desperate, although for what, neither of them were sure. She thrust against him again and he arched up into her: the sort of positioning intended to get her deeper inside him. It had her groaning at the thought, the idea that he wanted that so plainly. His fingers curled, looking for something to grip onto. She took his arm and put it under her shoulder onto her back. When she thrust next, his fingers gripped her and his legs wrapped around her waist, ankles locking, clinging on and drawing her in. She growled at that, holding his shoulder as she rocked his body, her movements increasingly aggressive but still rhythmic.

He loved it, his body covered and rocked and held down by her. She would later attempt to imagine what was going on behind those closed eyes. For now, she was occupied by her own experience of it: the sight of him; the thought of what it would feel like to be inside him, tight and wet around a cock she didn’t have; the animalistic force he revelled in her exerting over him. She may not have had a straining erection to press against him or inside him but she was nonetheless noticeably, physically aroused; somewhat less obvious though than his hard and neglected cock. He did not appear to have a thought to spare for it.

Pulling his shirt to the side again, she mouthed at his shoulder once before biting into him again. He moaned, pulling her closer to himself, deeper. She bit a trail over his collarbone towards his neck. "I promise I won't mark you," she whispered.

"Please do, Jo," he replied, tilting his head back to make it easier for her.

"You want that, do you, pet?" she said, nibbling lightly at his skin.

"Yes - please, make me yours."

Charlie held his breath as she bit and sucked at his neck and released it as her teeth let go of him.

"Like that?"

"Yes, more," he groaned.

"Needy, aren't you?" she teased. It was undeniable and he was exquisite.

He nodded vigorously and she wrapped her teeth around a spot just below the first mark, already beginning to show red underneath his flushed skin. Her hand wrapped underneath his shoulder, she rested her weight on her arm and began to thrust against him again. His fingers clawed at her, one hand at her back, one behind her head, holding her where she bit painfully at his neck. His breathing was shallow and shaky and interspersed with weak moans.

She drew back to see her work, still moving rhythmically. A line of reddening marks stretched from his neck down over his collarbone. She traced them with her fingers, pressing hard enough to make Charlie gasp before wrapping her hand again around his throat. She choked him viciously as her thrusts became more erratic, her other hand gripping his leg to pull him into her. Watching him closely, she saw him begin to struggle, his eyes opening to stare at her helplessly and his hand starting to reach up to the arm that was holding his windpipe closed. She let go of him immediately, letting him gasp in a lungful of air and whimpering as he let it out again. She stroked her hand down his chest, gently petting him now as her body stilled.

Slowly, his legs relaxed and fell down to the bed. She lay down beside him, still brushing her hand over him as his panting breaths slowed. When he regained the strength to move, he rolled over and nestled his back into her body. She caressed his chest and side slowly, holding his body as his mind sunk slowly back into reality.


End file.
